New Martyr Press’ Interview with the author of “Journey of an Aching Heart”

What countries did you travel through on foot?

Greece, Bulgaria, Serbia, Kosovo-- although I consider Kosovo to be a part of Serbia, Montenegro, Bosnia and Herzegovina, and Italy. The pilgrimage lasted for 8 months and the book only covers the first few months of the journey.

How did you survive?

The grace of God and the Jesus Prayer. Truly, there were more than a few moments when I was almost hit by a car, bus, or truck, or walking down a road in a forest, mountainous region, or uninhabited area without food or water, or being unable to move on the ground because of physical exhaustion and bodily pain.

There was a man from a small village near Preveza, Greece who met me in the road with a shotgun, but after speaking with him about my pilgrimage in broken Greek, he and his family showed me kindness and even gave me a few oranges from their orange tree. One night in Italy I was walking on a narrow highway between Foggia and Bari on my way to see Saint Nicholas and I was saying the Jesus Prayer. At one point, I cried out that I am sinner and starting begging God for His mercy. There was only tall grass and farmland for miles and it was very late at night. All of a sudden, I heard the click of a pump shotgun coming from the grass about 20 yards away. Someone had apparently heard me and loaded their gun. I called out to them, but there was no response. I thought it might be the day of my departure. Then, I just continued on down the road saying the Jesus Prayer and tried to prepare myself as much as possible for the pain of being shot.

Much of the book mentions the kind acts of others, and it is true that people become the hands and feet of Christ. While walking to Mount Athos through Chalkidiki, I slowly dropped to the ground in exhaustion, hunger, and thirst and then fell asleep instantly. I was found by a Greek couple who took care of me and helped me to resume my journey. It is a great blessing to be helped by others in such a situation and my experience has definitely created an eternal soft spot in my heart for vagabonds and homeless people, for those people who have known that terrible mix of physical pain and deep, relentless hunger.

My experience has shown me that God, indeed, provides. Throughout the entire pilgrimage, I was asking God for guidance and help. I hoped that He would enlighten me so that I would know what to do at all times. There were so many crucial decisions to make about which routes to take, which places to approach or to avoid and so forth. There were times when I thought that I was lost, especially in Bulgaria, but in actuality God was leading me to wonderful, spiritually edifying moments. Specifically, I am thinking of the time when an old Bulgarian woman was so happy to have shown me hospitality that she began crying. The full story is in the book.

I know that I made mistakes and that I didn’t pray as well as I should have, but God always took care of me and this engendered an almost constant state of gratefulness within me that allowed me to ascend to heights of faith that I had never known before. I remember at one time walking in Greece and getting to the point when my hunger seemed unbearable. I looked to the right side of the road and inside the forest I noticed a plum tree. The pure joy of that moment still stays with me. Of course, I was glad to have something to eat, but more than that, I was filled with the happiness that comes when you know without a doubt that God is watching over you.

Did you ever actually get lost?

Absolutely. Many times. But again, on a pilgrimage like this one, it is possible to appear lost, yet be exactly where God has led you to be. As I was walking down dirt paths in the wilderness between Nea Roda, Greece and Mount Athos, I started hyperventilating. The heat of the sun was felt much more intensely and my balance was off as I trudged along. Dehydrated and weak, I prayed for God’s help imploringly. At this time, I was also being attacked spiritually with negative thoughts: “Would I pass out? Would anyone find me in time? Would I die? There is no one around. I am alone. I don’t have the energy to scream out for help.” This was a difficult moment for me. Then, I saw a house in the distance and approached it with the hope that someone would be home. A kind man with a gentle facial expression came out of the house and brought me water and some food. He could see that I was in trouble, although we were unable to communicate much due to the language barrier. I had been walking for hours and guessing the correct pathways, but not really knowing where I was going. It was a blessing to come across someone who expressed genuine good-will. Sure, I was lost, but meeting this person had such a positive spiritual effect on me that I felt that this was exactly where I needed to be. God allowed me to learn an important lesson of kindness.

Honestly, we never really know how our kindness will affect another person, but it is clear that sometimes the most simple act of good-will can change the trajectory of someone’s life and lead them closer to God through extreme thankfulness.

I believe that there is a mystery to one’s movement while on a pilgrimage and that God leads pilgrims to different places for certain reasons. I remember being outside of Assisi, Italy on a small highway going in what I hoped was the direction towards Rome, and I happened upon a small village where I met a woman whose husband had passed away at an early age. She asked me to pray for his soul, and I still, to this day, remember him in my prayers.

Years ago before I became Orthodox, I lived abroad in Europe for a little while. There I met someone from Italy who I later disrespected greatly and our friendship never recovered. It was completely my fault. While walking towards Rome, I noticed signs to Lago Trasimeno, which is where this person was from. After a long and exhausting walk, I arrived at the lake at sunset and looked out over one of the most beautiful landscapes that I have ever seen, and wept for my sins.

One of the most interesting unplanned moments on my journey was somewhere outside of Campobasso, Italy. I was walking up a large mountain when a group of people in a car took pity on me and gave me a ride to the top as it was quite large and the road was steep. Near the top of the mountain there was a monastery whose overseer had broken away from Catholicism after losing faith in its leadership and was trying to establish the monastery as a free entity which would no longer be under the control of the vatican. I happened to arrive during what he described as “the week of contention.” For a moment (and forgive me but this was rather funny), I thought that I was being vetted as a vatican spy. After all, I happened to randomly show up at the monastery at a peculiar time with a not so believable back story such as “I left Athens, Greece over half a year ago on a pilgrimage and here I am.” There were a few questions lined up that one could possibly say compiled a loose interrogation, but after that, he showed me hospitality. We had a meal together and talked about Orthodox mysticism and how he had studied Greek in order to better understand the New Testament. He wanted a deeper spiritual life for the monastery and claimed that Catholicism had strayed greatly from the teachings of the Holy Orthodox Church Fathers.

In Rome, I was lost. Of course it was a large city, but my destination was specific. I walked for hours looking for the Orthodox Church of Saint Theodore. My reason for coming to Rome was to pray near the Colosseum where numerous Orthodox Christians were martyred and to visit the Orthodox Church of Saint Theodore-- and that was all. Finally, I found someone in a shop who was able to direct me to The Orthodox Church of Saint Theodore and when I arrived, it was disheartening to see the Byzantine flag rolled up and not hanging freely. Also, I knocked on the door at the gate and pushed the buzzer, but no one came to the door. Churches in Athens stay open and people enter throughout the day in order to pray, chant softly, and light candles. The Churches are ‘living’ one could say. Of course, I prayed for a moment next to the tall metal fence in front of the church, but I left with the pain of wanting more for the Italians and wondering why the Church was not open for all to enter and learn about the Light of Orthodoxy. Perhaps the priest was on his lunch break and I was wrong about the Church of Saint Theodore not normally being open. I don’t know.

Did anyone ever notice you, or know that you were on a pilgrimage?

There was a man in Bosnia who said that he recognized me from a TV news report and invited me to have coffee with him and his family. I thought this was interesting, but I never realized that I was being filmed.

There was also a young man in Italy who pulled over quickly off the highway and slammed on his breaks in front of me. It seemed a little strange and I didn’t know what to expect, but he jumped out of the car with exuberance and said that he could tell that I was on a pilgrimage and that he himself once went on a pilgrimage. He gave me a ride to the next town and told me stories about his journey.

There was also a really funny encounter with a man in Greece when he pulled over to give me ride in his truck. He said he knew that I was going to Mount Athos, and in fact, that is where I was going. The full story is in the book.

How did the pilgrimage affect your Orthodox faith?

It made me realize how prideful and sinful I am.

What was the part of your journey that affected you the most in a positive way?

This is a difficult question to answer. There were many positive experiences, especially on Mount Athos. Many times, it seems within Orthodoxy that the most positive experiences are spiritual and that they are naturally shrouded in silence.

This might be why it was very difficult for me to write about spiritually significant moments throughout my journey: Mount Athos, Ostrog, Fruska Gora, Pec… I recognize that some people have the spiritual depth and eloquence to write about spiritual matters. I, on the other hand, can’t seem to formulate the words.

What did you learn about the human condition?

I learned that overcoming fear in order to show kindness to a tired, sweaty, smelly stranger is spiritually gorgeous.

Once, it was starting to rain in a small village south of Igoumenitsa, Greece. There was nowhere for me to go. I looked for a roof to stand under and I couldn’t find anything. Finally, I saw a concrete staircase next to a building and I climbed under it. The storm was very strong and I was thankful to have found a dry place to rest. It turned out that the building was a kindergarten school. Please try to imagine how disgusting I was. At this point in my journey I had been walking for about 7 months. My beard was long, I was sweaty, and my body odor had to be unbearable for anyone near me. I was so cold but I didn’t have a jacket so I was wrapping my sleeping bag around me like a coat. I was walking down the coastline making my way to a monastery near Preveza, but at this point, I was weeks away from arriving. So there I was, sitting under the staircase waiting for the rain to stop and a kindergarten teacher saw me as she was walking inside the building. She looked shocked, but not afraid, and seemed to take pity on me. I asked if she could speak English and I explained my situation to her. I told her about my pilgrimage. She told me to wait, and then came out later with another kindergarten teacher who gave me a blanket and a mat that the children normally sleep on and told me that I could rest there as long as I wished. After a period of time, one of the kindergarten teachers came back with a freshly prepared meal that had just been made for the children.

What this act of kindness did to my heart goes beyond words and the emotion still sits in my heart fresh and raw. May God allow me to serve them in heaven, although I wouldn’t deserve to be there.

What is the most beautiful scene that you experienced?

The most beautiful scene occurred on Mount Athos at the Monastery of Saint Andrew and Saint Anthony the Great in Karyes. During Divine Liturgy when the priestmonk was standing in front of the Royal Gates with the body and blood of Christ, an old monk approached the chalice in order to receive. He was frail and shaky, so another monk had to support him. The look on the old monk’s face became youthful, full of light and joy in expectation. The monk supporting him could not keep him still and while the priestmonk was putting the Eucharist in his mouth, his face started shaking and it knocked the spoon to the side spilling the Holy Gifts onto the floor. The priestmonk turned pale and with a grave expression, bent down to the floor and then laid on his stomach with his head towards the Royal Gates and his feet towards the nave of the Church. Without hesitation and with very serious and intentional movements, the priestmonk began licking the floor of the Church. No one said a word. It was one of the most beautiful expressions of love for Christ that I have ever seen. He licked the entire area where the Eucharist had fallen. It took some time. When he finally got up, it looked as though he would cry, or perhaps had been crying. His eyes looked down and away and then he calmly resumed the Divine Liturgy.

Is there any context to this book that enhances the words you have written?

Almost, if not, all of the book was written in exhaustion. I did not want to dive much into my own personal reflections as if I were writing a journal or diary and I honestly felt like I didn’t have the time or cognitive bandwidth to do so. I simply wanted an honest account of the pilgrimage. After speaking with a protinica in Bosnia who had read some of my writings, I decided to do a hard edit on the really painful things that had happened. She helped me understand that we must not always be quick to speak openly about the hurtful things that others have done to us.

Most of the time I would finish a long day of walking by crouching in the darkness under a dim street light in order to record my recent experiences. It would have been nice to have added some literary flourishes, interesting parallels, or further analysis of some surprising occurrences, but my mind would only produce what it could while dipping consistently into mild malnutrition and excessive physical exertion.

Thank you for your time.

Thank you. Christos Anesti! Glory to God in all things!